


Can't It Be Both?

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: Pride Month Prompts 2019 [12]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/F, Feelings, Fluff, Teasing, bad girl natasha, bi reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 14:57:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19379026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: Natasha is the typical badass, leather jacket wearing, motorcycle riding kind of woman. She falls in love with a woman who is everything she’s not: soft, big hearted and gentle.





	Can't It Be Both?

Natasha swerved her bike around the corner and into the garage. She briefly glanced back to check that she hadn’t given old Jeff a heart attack by tearing him from his sleep and, convinced she’d managed to avoid frightening her favourite security guard to death, she raced around the corners of the dark complex.

It was well past 2 am so the Triskelion was practically empty, giving her the freedom to be as reckless as she desired. Natasha pushed her bike to its top speed and then some until the engine could take it no more. The thick smell of burning rubber on the hard ground filled her nostrils as she skidded round a tight corner, cutting so close to a supporting pillar that the rough concrete grazed her hand as she passed.

Her entire body was buzzing with adrenaline by the time she finally swung into her spot between 2 cars - Fury and Hill’s, the only two people crazy enough to still be around at this time. She noted with smug satisfaction, and no shortage of relief, that she had just managed to avoid clipping Fury’s mirror while parking (if coming to a sudden stop less than a centimetre away from the wall can be called parking). Brave as she was, Natasha had no desire to upset her boss by damaging his new car.

She leapt off the bike and headed upstairs to the Director’s office, mind wandering as she walked. Where others celebrated peace time, Natasha found it exhausting. After all she’d seen, it was impossible to believe that this lull in activity was not just the calm before a terrible storm. With no enemies to fight she was creating them in the shadows, setting herself permanently on edge. 

As such, when Natasha arrived outside Fury’s office and found an unconscious body stretched out on the sofa she assumed the worst. Knife in hand, regrettably only a few inches but carrying anything more tended to attract attention out in public, she slowly crossed the darkened room for a closer inspection.

Confusion clouded her mind at what she saw. There were no signs to indicate that you were a threat. Your skin was free of marks that one would expect from someone who had fought, lost and been subdued. There were no cuffs around your wrists. No reason to believe you were a danger in any way.

Your light summer dress had ridden up around your thighs, the soft fabric bunching up beneath you and revealing smooth flesh which begged to be caressed. Loose strands of hair had fallen across your face as you slept - yes, you were sleeping, not unconscious. You looked so gentle and carefree. You couldn’t be an agent, not with edges so soft.

Driven by an urge she could not explain, Natasha reached down and brushed the hair from your face. Your eyes fluttered open and went wide in panic, the cool metal of the blade in your periphery understandably alarming, before your fear mellowed as if you recognised her and knew she wouldn’t hurt you. It was an odd reaction, one Natasha did not receive often.

“Hey,” you said, sitting up slowly and rubbing your bleary eyes. You tugged at the hem of your dress, pulling it back into place and covering your modesty. Still a little dazed from being pulled from your dream, you asked gently, “What time is it?”

Natasha glanced up at the clock on the wall, the numbers glowing clearly in the otherwise dim room. They cast a faint blue glow over your face, highlighting your features. You really were beautiful. “About half two. How long have you been here?”

“Since ten,” you sighed. “Is Maria still here?”

Through the window to Fury’s office, Natasha saw where he and Hill were pouring over a mess of files. They were both usually the neat, efficient types so whatever was in those reports had to be intense if it had led them to scatter papers around the room in such a way. “Yeah, she’s here. How do you know each other?”

“We were friends at college. I just moved to the city and she was supposed to take me out for a drink but I guess duty calls. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Natasha.”

Your lips turned up at the corners. “I know. Thanks for waking me up before I got a crooked neck. I think I’ll go home now and just message her in the morning.”

“You want a ride home?”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that. You’re here for work. I don’t want to interrupt anything important.”

Natasha shook her head, insisting, “It’s not that important. Come on. You’re too tired to drive, even if you had a car here. It’s no bother.”

Light conversation flowed between you as she led you down to the garage. In that short time, Natasha learnt some very interesting facts about you. Like most people, you found her attractive. You laughed at her jokes. You turned your face away to hide your smile when she complimented you.

However, unlike most people, you weren’t an open book. Oh, the basics were there for anyone to see. You were kind and gentle hearted. You cared and were genuinely interested in people, even after only a few minutes of knowing them. You were a little insecure but liked the way Natasha showered you with attention.

You were also undeniably smart, an unarguably attractive quality. In the ten minutes it took to walk down to the garage, you managed to avoid revealing any information of actual importance. Which, in Natasha’s extended experience, was a rare feat indeed.

Most people were easy to read. The way they spoke, the things they enjoyed, the way they held themselves. It told Natasha more than the actual words that left their mouth. Political leanings, religious beliefs, powerful connections. Dark secrets, hidden guilt, deep regrets. All things of great note that might be useful to whichever agency employed her services.

However, you were a challenge. Someone to be unravelled and Natasha revelled in cracking people like you. She needed to know you. To find out what made you tick and what made you flash that stunning smile of yours. The one that was like sunshine on a rainy day, bringing joy to anyone who had the honour of seeing it. 

By the time you made it down to the garage, Natasha knew she wanted you. How could she not? You were a complicated mystery wrapped up in a gorgeous body and it was clear you were interested in her, too. You knew who she was. Her dangerous reputation preceded her and she guessed that, like many others, you found that exciting. And who was she to turn you away?

It was almost comical the way your eyes widened when you saw Natasha bike and she found it impossible not to laugh. She hopped on and motioned for you to join, lowering her voice and asking, “You’re not scared, are you?”

“Of course not,” you huffed indignantly.

Judging by the way difficulty with which you threw your leg over the seat, it was safe to say that you had never ridden a motorbike before. That made Natasha even more determined to give you a ride you wouldn’t forget.

It was a tight squeeze. You both barely fit on the seat but that was, after all, the point. Natasha was all too aware of how your thighs wrapped around hers, your dress riding up around your waist, and the pressure of your chest against her back. She wasn’t the only one turned on by your sudden closeness. Your shallow breath on Natasha’s neck had her mind wandering to all manner of wonderfully sinful places.

She twisted round and handed you a helmet. Drawing her fingers up the length of your exposed thigh, she said, “Got to protect your pretty face.”

“What about yours?”

“You think I’m pretty?”

You bit your bottom lip, hiding the rest of you reaction beneath the dark helmet. It was frankly adorable. With a final warning to hold tight, you wrapped your arms around her waist and you clung on to her the entire time. Even after you started to relax (the fear shifting to exhilaration as Natasha raced through the city) you didn’t let go.

When you reached your apartment building, Natasha jumped off the bike and offered you a hand down to ensure you didn’t trip. She walked you right up to your front door and lounged against the wall as you fiddled with your keys. You didn’t want the excitement to end yet.

Her gaze shamelessly roaming over your body, Natasha reached out and caught your hands in hers. “I want to kiss you, Y/N.”

“But you barely know me!”

“I know you’re gorgeous.”

She suddenly had you backed against the door, trapped between her body and the solid surface behind you. Even if you were stronger than you looked, there was no way you could have overpowered Natasha. You had nowhere to run. You were at her mercy. There was no suggestion that she would actually hurt you but your distinct lack of power excited you both.

No more than a hair width between your lips, you tilted your chin up in an attempt to close the gap but Natasha pulled back. Teasingly reminding you that she was in charge. The intensity of her gaze, of her desire, reflected in your own eyes, she said, “I know you’re smart.”

Natasha could feel your chest rising and falling against hers. Could almost hear your heart racing in your chest as she drew her fingers over your cheek. She leant in and whispered in your ear, her breath on your beautifully soft skin sending a shiver down your spine. “And I know you aren’t as sweet as you let on.”

You started to argue but she shook her head, cutting you off. You immediately stopped talking and oh how Natasha loved that she already had you wrapped around her finger. “I want to make you scream my name so loudly that all the neighbours can hear.”

She nipped at your earlobe and a delicious moan fell from your lips. That was definitely a sound Natasha could get used to hearing. Natasha pressed her hips against yours as she peppered kisses down your neck, intoxicated by the taste of your skin and the sharp pressure of your fingers on her waist as you steadied yourself. “Don’t you want that too, Y/N?”

“Yes,” you breathed, desperate and thick with desire.

That was exactly what she wanted to hear.

Natasha brushed her lips against yours in a chaste kiss, so at odd from the intensity from moments before, and drew back with a smirk. Drawing her fingers down your cheek once more, she said, “Maybe next time, sunshine. Good night, Y/N. I hope you dream of me.”

Without another word, Natasha hurried down the stairs and jumped back on her bike, smug in the knowledge that you would be thinking of no one else for weeks to come.

***

Over the next few months, Natasha made a bit of a habit bumping into you around the city. Sometimes it was genuinely by happy accident. Other days, she used her special set of skills to find where you were heading and make sure she was there to ‘unexpectedly’ cross paths with you.

You reacted with excitement every time, almost always inviting her to join you for lunch or keep you company as you walked across the park back to your office. Natasha took every one of these opportunities to make you blush. She loved the way your lips parted when she stepped closer and the sweet smell of your perfume called to her, a scent which now always made her smile whether you were around or not.

Each meeting was filled with light but meaningful touches. Brushes of her fingers against your skin, catching all the spots which made your eyelids flutter and your knees go weak with need. Her arm around your shoulder, twisting and tugging on loose strands as you talked. She never tried to kiss you again despite knowing it was what you wanted. Just another part of the game, drawing out the inevitable until you could take the wait no longer.

Slowly but surely you opened up to her, drip feeding her insights to your mind, to your heart, but never enough to fully satisfy her need to know you. It was like you knew you were a mystery to her and held it above her like a prize to be won, your complete openness, your story, all information to be earned.

It was becoming an addiction, getting to know you. Not only was she driven by a physical desire it was now an intellectual need too. You occupied more than your fair share of her thoughts and it was becoming an issue. She needed to get you out her system - soon - and there was only one way she knew to do that.

She had to have you. She had to taste your sweet, softeners on her lips. To feel you beneath her as you moaned her name. In a lifetime of solving puzzles, Natasha had learned that the easiest way to get the answers was with passion. It blinded people, like it was blinding her. All it would take was one night and she’d finally learn everything about you she needed to know. Then she could move on.

It was simple. At least in theory. Never had Natasha been so compelled to know someone as she was with you. There was every chance that once she’d tasted you that she’d come back for more. Oh, she was definitely addicted to something and you were, without doubt, her drug of choice.

All day, Natasha had been distracted by the image of your face so decided it was finally time to act. To clear you from her system entirely. She jumped on her bike and rode over to your house. As she pulled up against the curb, you came walking round the corner at exactly the same moment as if it were fate.

Giving her a little wave, you called, “Hey, Natasha!”

“Hey,” she replied, shaking out her long red hair as she removed her helmet.

“I’ve missed you this past few weeks,” you said, pulling her into a brief hug. You seemed so genuinely happy to see her, it actually threw her for a moment. It was hard to believe that you had no ulterior motive with your kindness but she reminded herself you weren’t like that. You were far better than she was in that respect. “Where have you been?”

“Can’t say but I’ve missed you too sunshine.”

You smiled at the nickname. “Why don’t you come inside? We can catch up. If you’re not busy.”

“Nowhere I’d rather be,” Natasha said, the truth of the statement startling her a little. She reminded herself that the only reason she was here was to satiate her addiction with you. Nothing more.

Your home was everything she’d expected of a good girl like you. The space was light and airy with soft, feminine touches everywhere. Beautiful canvas art hung on the walls, the bright colours bringing together everything in the room. Pictures of you and your friends covered most of the surfaces, memories from years of holidays and trips together which had shaped you into the complex puzzle you were today.

One photo caught her eyes more than the rest, though. It wasn’t from a special occasion, nor was it a particularly good shot. It was just you and her in a shaky selfie taken during one of your walks through the park, the browning leaves falling behind you. Natasha could feel your joy radiating from the picture and felt a warmth in her chest.

“It’s the only one I’ve got of us,” you said, handing her a steaming mug of coffee. “That was a good day.”

“Why?”

“Well, I saw you for one,” you grinned, brushing past her and making yourself comfortable in the corner seat of your sofa. “I guess you just felt so relaxed compared to normal. Like you were having fun.”

“You are always fun to hang around, sunshine,” Natasha said. Instead of taking a seat on the other end of the sofa, she forwent any notions of person space and set down right beside you, your elbows bashing as she lifted the delicate mug to her lips.

Before she could say more, try to tempt you to the naked kind of fun in the bedroom, you rest your head on her shoulder and let out a content sigh. This certainly wasn’t the plan but Natasha couldn’t quite find it in herself to mind. She didn’t complain when you switched on the TV, bringing up one of your favourite film, nor when you curled up with your head in her lap.

Natasha’s mind drifted from the movie, her thoughts more focused on you. She ran her fingers through your hair, gently petting your head when a horrible realisation hit. This wasn’t about sex. It wasn’t about even about unravelling the mystery that was you. Somewhere in the chase, amid the lunches and midnight phone calls, the teasing touches and promises of more, this relationship had become something more.

She stiffened beneath you.

“Everything okay?” You asked, voice thick with sleepiness. Your eyes drooped, barely able to stay open for more than a second before falling shut again. Even on the edge of unconsciousness, you still managed to worry about her.

Keeping her voice light, worried that the truth might slip through, she whispered, “Yeah. Yeah, it’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

“You’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay,” Natasha answered after a moment’s pause. She shouldn’t. It was wrong. But she couldn’t leave you, either.

This was so much worse than addiction. It was no longer about the challenge of winning over the heart of someone as pure as you. It wasn’t physical or intellectual or any other reason Natasha may have fabricated to explain her desire to see you. This was feelings. Maybe even love.

This was not good at all.

***

The next morning, Natasha burst into Hill’s office with such force that one of the door hinges cracked. Not bothering to take a seat, Natasha stated, “I need something.”

“If it’s to do with Barton, that’s not my problem. You wanted him as back up. It’s up to you to kill him if he’s being a pain. If you want guns, you know where the armoury is. If it’s anything else it can wait. I’m busy.”

“No, nothing like that. I need… Advice.”

Hill looked up in shock. She was rightly startled; Natasha didn’t ask for help lightly. In fact, neither woman could remember the last time Natasha had requested assistance for anything. She didn’t ask for help period. If there was a problem, she found a solution one way or another and only ever called for backup when it was absolutely necessary. Never did she admit to not holding all the cards.

Setting down the report in her hands, recognising this to be a monumental day, Maria motioned to the chair opposite her. “Tell me.”

“You know Y/N?”

“Sure, we’ve been friends for years.”

“Last night I stayed at her place.”

“I do not need to hear this,” Hill said, pleading with her eyes for Natasha not to go into details.

Ignoring that request entirely, Natasha continued, “We were cuddling and -“

Hill buried her head in her hands. “And I’m hearing it.”

“I fell asleep with her.”

“Natasha, I really don’t want to - Wait. You fell asleep? With Y/N?” Natasha nodded. Sitting back in her chair, Hill rubbed the back of her neck and said, “You’re in deep.”

That was hardly news to Natasha. She’d realised that on her own last night. Confirmation of that was not why she’d come here; she needed a plan on how to proceed and was too close to the situation to devise one herself. In reality, she knew Hill wasn’t exactly the most impartial source - being friends with you for over a decade - but there was no one else Natasha trusted as much (save for Clint but he was as useless as she was when it came to feelings).

“I don’t know what to do,” Natasha admitted, the foreign words sour on her tongue. The voices in the back of her mind, the ones she’d tried to bury since leaving the Red Room but resurfaced when she was at her lowest, called her weak for turning to someone else for support. They were wrong, she knew, but it was so easy to believe them.

Burying the fear of judgment, Natasha continued, “I have never fallen asleep when I’m with someone, Maria. I’ve never felt safe enough to.”

“Well, what did you do this morning? When you woke up?”

Natasha winced. It wasn’t her proudest moment. “I left while she was showering before breakfast.”

Maria rolled up a file and whacked her around the head. Natasha grabbed the other woman and flipped her over the wooden desk but Hill shoved her against the wall, holding her still before this went any further. “If you hurt her…”

Relaxing beneath Hill’s grip, aware that she wasn’t in imminent danger and had no reason to break the other woman’s hand for only helping her, Natasha grumbled, “I don’t want to! That’s why I left.”

“Oh, Tasha.” Hill released her grip and stepped back, shaking her head. Putting a little space between them, giving each room to take a breath and calm down, she said, “You’re gonna do just that if you pull away now. You’ll break her heart if you leave.”

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

Maria’s fists clenched up by her side, signalling that was absolutely the wrong thing to have said. Biting back her anger, whether for Natasha’s stupidity or being interrupted over something so easily solved, Hill said, “Stop thinking as a spy and be a real person for a moment.”

“I don’t know if I can. That’s the problem. I’ve done this for so long. Manipulated people to get what I want. I don’t know if there is still a person there. All this time I thought I was working her, trying to get information, and didn’t even realise I was doing it because I just wanted to be near Y/N!”

“Stop wallowing in self pity and go out and get yourself a girl who loves you as much as you love her.”

 _Love is a weakness._ Natasha didn’t even need the voices to remind her of that. It was so deeply engraved in her mind that no amount of mental reconditioning would ever touch that cold sentiment. It was a weakness to love. A danger to open yourself up and give the enemy something worth taking. Something, someone, you’d die for. A person with more sway over you than the mission.

Amid the dark thoughts, Hill’s words suddenly sunk in. “Y/N loves me?”

Maria pursed her lips as she sat back down at her desk, pretending to read over a report. “That was probably not my secret to tell so do me a favour and don’t let her know I told you. Y/N looks sweet but she can be vicious.”

Natasha frowned. You’d never given her that impression. You were always so soft and gentle, the perfect light to her darkness. “Really?”

“You didn’t actually think that, after spending fifteen years hanging around spies and soldiers, that Y/N hadn’t learnt to defend herself? Shame on you. She’d got basic agent level training and I’m fairly sure she’d pass all our weapons proficiency tests with flying colours.”

“So the danger of being with a spy… Of being with me…”

“She was never into you because you were dangerous, Nat. Y/N loves you because you’re… well, whatever it is she sees in you. Now. This is my last warning. Go and apologise for running out on her this morning and make yourself happy, for once. She likes daisies, by the way.”

“Thanks, Hill.”

“Yeah, yeah. I like Budweiser.”

***

Natasha lightly knocked on your door, the harsh sound echoing down the otherwise empty corridor. There was no reply so she turned to leave, making it only a few steps down before turning back to try again. Stubbornness was one of her stronger traits and today was not the day she learned to ignore it. “Y/N? Are you in there?”

Not two seconds later you opened the door, your eyes a little wary. She didn’t fool herself into believe in that you’d cried over her but she could see her sudden departure had hurt you. 

“Missed you this morning” you said, inviting her in. “Pretty flowers.”

“They’re for you.”

“Good start.” You took the small bouquet of daisies and set them on the side as you rummaged round the cupboards for a vase to put them in.

“What?”

Your head popped up from beneath the counter, a blank expression on your face. “To your apology for running out on me without so much as a good morning kiss. I assume that’s why you came back.”

“You’re angry.”

“A little! I knew you wouldn’t stay but I thought you’d leave a note or something!”

Vase forgotten, you stepped around the cabinet and closed the gap between you and Natasha. You grabbed the lapels of her jacket and tugged her towards you, sliding a hand beneath her shirt. “If you are anything like Maria then you don’t do well with feelings and that’s fine but I just want to know where we stand. If you only want a part time, physical thing then I am up for that.”

You traced your fingers down her cheek, catching the edge of her lips with your thumb. A shiver ran down Natasha’s spine as your voice dropped to a whisper, raw and overflowing with emotion. “But if you want more, then I need to know. Because I want to be with you but I need to protect my heart and I know you do too.”

Natasha’s heart was racing in her chest, a warmth spreading across her skin as you indulged your own desires and continued on your torturously slow exploration of her body. She could have stopped you. Could have pushed you away or torn your hands from her body, pinning them above your head and showed you how to _really_ make someone bend to your will. But she didn’t.

Instead, she let you continue, her breath hitching as your fingers graced over her scars and your lips quivered over hers. You were so gentle, so soft in your touch, and yet there was no hesitation. “So, is it wild passionate sex you want or a place to come after a long day to wind down with someone who loves you?”

“Can’t it be both?” Natasha asked,

“That’s remarkably selfish, Agent Romanoff, but I suppose we can work something out.”

‘You do?’

You smiled, brushing your lips over hers in a perfectly chaste kiss that somehow managed to promise an awful lot more. ‘Yeah, I do.”


End file.
